Suddenly
by M C Pehrson
Summary: Story # 91 A mysterious incident at the Kirk ranch drives a painful wedge between Sam and his lovely fiance, Jenny.


_Amazing, how suddenly things can change,_ thought Jenny Flynn as she threw on her coat and headed out into the raw November day. Only this morning, the sun had shone bright and unseasonably warm, with nary a cloud in sight, but now it was overcast and icy cold. With snow threatening, she hurried to the paddock, squeezed through the gate, and took hold of War Cloud's halter. The old horse acted as skittish as a colt, skewing his ears around while she pulled him toward the shelter of the stable.

"Tis only the wind," she assured him, but the approaching storm made her feel uneasy, too. She found herself wishing that her fiancé's mother, Antonia, had not driven into town. If only it was Tuesday and Sam himself was here at the ranch, instead of so far away in Chicago.

Suddenly War Cloud set his legs and refused to budge. Jenny tugged harder, inching him along, but at the entrance to the stable he reared, yanking his halter clear out of her grip...

oooo

...From deep in a well of darkness, Jenny heard a snuffling sound that puzzled her. Something warm brushed her face, leaving a trail of shivery moisture. With an effort she opened her eyes and found War Cloud nudging her with his nose. She was flat on her back in the stable, her clothes in disarray.

Abruptly she remembered hooves striking her and moaned, "Ooh...ya darn foolish beast...what have ya gone and done?"

Shaken with chills, she tried to sit up, and a splitting pain tore through her head. Every inch of her felt battered, yet somehow she made it to her feet. Hobbling over to War Cloud, she guided him to his stall. He went in willingly enough, now. But the damage was done.

Snow drifted down as she went back to the house and took stock of her injuries. In addition to the bruises, there was some blood coming out of her, but a soothing hot bath put a stop to it. Antonia arrived and called in her own doctor. The kindly middle-aged man scanned Jenny where she lay recuperating on her bed.

Shaking his head at the readings, he asked, "You say a horse stomped you?"

"But good, he did."

The doctor sent Antonia from the room. Then very quietly he said, "No horse did this. Young lady, your body shows every evidence of rape trauma."

Jenny reared up in dismay. _"Rape?_ I was there, doctor, and nothin' of the sort ever happened. I tell ya, that old horse spooked and came after me."

He sighed. "If that's your story, I can't report otherwise. That man must have scared you but good. Or was it your boyfriend? Maybe you're thinking that he just got a bit carried away?"

"I resent that," she flared. "And ya better not be sayin' a word of it to Antonia."

The doctor left after treating her laceration, and Jenny hoped that would be the last of it. But as the day's shock subsided, she began to wonder what the incident might mean for poor War Cloud. If Sam heard about the trampling, he would want the old stallion put down. War Cloud was a bitter reminder of the father who had abandoned the family, and he was forever pressuring his mother to get rid of him.

"No need for Sam to know," Jenny told her as they discussed the situation over dinner.

But Antonia did not agree. "I'm not going to hide what happened. Maybe Sam's been right all along; maybe War Cloud's just getting too old and unpredictable. Meanwhile, I want you to stay clear of that horse, Jenny."

oooo

Before Sam next arrived, Jenny carefully applied makeup to her bruises, but she could not mask them completely, or the soreness that slowed her down. Sam's sharp eyes took in everything. He was all for getting rid of War Cloud, and this time even his mother backed him up.

Jenny pleaded for the horse's life. "It must've been the wind; it spooked him, that's all. Look at him now. Sure, and he's as gentle as a lamb!"

But there was no changing their minds. By day's end, Jenny watched the transporter beam "collect" the proud old Appaloosa. Sam stood at her side and assured her that it was entirely painless—a clean, modern form of euthanasia that reduced the body into a computerized energy pattern.

Through her tears. Jenny stared at the empty corral. Slowly she became aware of Sam's arm around her, and swallowed a stirring of anger. No sense taking it out on him, though he was surely glad to be rid of the old "hay burner". If only she had been better at handling horses…

Burying her face in Sam's shoulder, she admitted, "I feel like it's all my fault."

Holding her close, he spoke tenderly. "Nonsense. There's nothing you could have done."

Jenny badly wanted to believe him. Glad of his supportive love, she let herself be comforted.

oooo

Now that War Cloud was gone, Sam hoped Jenny would quickly put the unhappy episode behind her-and for a time she did seem more like her cheerful self. But as the gray days of late autumn grew shorter, a disheartening change came over his fiancé. Each time he visited the ranch, she seemed more listless. Week by week the life drained out of her until she grew so thin that the dimples left her pale cheeks.

As Christmas neared, Sam returned yet again to the ranch. There were troubling shadows under Jenny's green eyes. After their weekly premarital counseling session at the parish church in Pinehaven, she wanted to go straight home. As Sam drove his mother's air car through the night, she was so silent that he had to voice his worry for the umpteenth time.

"Jenny, come on—tell me what's wrong. Is it War Cloud? You can't still be brooding over that old horse."

She gave him a wan smile. "No, not so much..."

"Then what? _"_ He drew a deep breath. "Are you having second thoughts about marriage?"

Jenny reached over and squeezed his hand. "Sam, you _know_ I love ya. But these days...I'm just not feelin' like meself."

"Maybe you should see Mom's doctor again."

Her body stiffened and she shook her head. "No, not him. Really, I'm fine."

They pulled up to the ranch. As Jenny got out of the car, Sam saw her grimace and put a hand on her stomach. Then and there he made up his mind, but took care of the arrangements before he told her. The very next week they were snuggled together, watching flames dance in the fireplace while his mother worked on a canvas upstairs.

"Tomorrow we're going to Chicago," he said. "It's high time I introduce you to my city. We'll make a day of it—drive around, look at houses for sale..." There was no subtle way to slip it in. "And I'm also taking you to a doctor."

Jenny slumped forward. Covering her face with her hands, she moaned, "Oh Sam...I don't know if I'm up to that."

Sam bent down and kissed her dark, fragrant hair. Rubbing her back, he said, "You took quite a beating in that corral. What if you're hurt inside? Jenny, you hardly eat anything, and I know you're having pain. Mom's worried, too."

For once, she didn't resist. "Your mither's been after me, alright." Raising her head, she looked at him, her eyes weary and a little frightened. "Okay, Sam. I'll go."

oooo

If the truth be told, Jenny was very frightened. It was more than the rundown feeling and the stabbing abdominal pains that plagued her. Ever since the trampling, she had not had her monthly flow. What if War Cloud seriously injured her? Would she and Sam be able to have a child? It seemed that modern medicine had a remedy for almost everything. It was the _almost_ part of it that kept her lying awake half the night, fretting.

Bright and early they arrived in blustery Chicago, and the sight of the splendid city lifted Jenny's heart. From the comfortable warmth of Sam's air car, he gave her a tour of the skyscraper district and beautiful Lincoln Park, on the shore of Lake Michigan.

"Oh, 'tis grand!" she exclaimed. "I'll like it here, for sure." With a loving smile, she added, "So long as you're with me."

"And where else would I be?" Playfully, Sam leaned over and planted a quick kiss on her lips. "After your appointment, I'll show you some nice houses."

"And your Goose Island apartment?" she asked hopefully. "Such a funny name. I want to see where ya live."

"It's not much to look at," he warned.

"But it's yours, Sam. Won't ya show me?"

He promised, and before long they arrived at Joliet Medical Clinic. Inside the great stone building, Jenny's fears returned, but thankfully she did not have long to wait. When her name was called, Sam gave her such an encouraging smile that she rose calmly. But once he was out of sight, her strength deserted her and she began to pray.

Alone with the woman doctor, Jenny explained her symptoms and stretched out on a diagnostic table. A heart monitor beeped wildly as she lay very still, trying to contain her fears.

"Doctor…" she stammered. "Will…will I be able to have babies?"

The doctor loosed a kind, reassuring laugh. "Babies? Ms. Flynn, all these symptoms of yours are indicative of a single, quite common condition. You're _pregnant."_

Now it was Jenny's turn to laugh. "No…no, you're pullin' me leg. I _can't_ be pregnant…unless kissin' counts."

Gently smiling, the doctor studied the complex monitor at the head of the bed. "Well, it says here that you've been kissing a Vulcan."

It struck Jenny that the doctor was completely serious. A thrill of raw panic tore through her. _Pregnant! How could it possibly be? "_ A...a _Vulcan?"_ she gasped.

"That's right." The doctor made a printout sheet and handed it to her, watching curiously as Jenny read. "See the Vulcan genetic factors? They're quite high. These mixed pregnancies can be problematic, but I'll refer you to a good obstetrician in your area."

Clutching the paper, Jenny fled to the bathroom and was sick. _Pregnant? With a Vulcan child?_ Shivering uncontrollably, she stumbled to the sink and revived herself with cold water. She stared into the mirror for a long while, studying the hollow-eyed stranger that looked back at her. _Jenny girl...are ya losin' your mind?_ The thought of Sam waiting for her triggered a fresh surge of panic. _Lord help me, Jesus be my strength._ Sam would never believe she was innocent! How could he, when even she was questioning it?

 _Jenny girl, were ya really raped, after all? Then why in the world can't ya remember?_

As the minutes dragged by, Sam grew so tense and restless that he began to pace. Twice he went to the receptionist's desk, inquiring about Jenny.

"Yes," came the patient reply, "she's still back there."

 _It's taking too long,_ he thought. _Something's gone wrong, I just know it._ Finding a seat near an aquarium, he tried to calm himself by watching the placid movements of the saltwater fish.

Suddenly Jenny stood beside him. Relieved, he sprang up and caught hold of her hands. They were icy to the touch. Looking at her ashen face, he experienced another wave of foreboding. "Jenny, what is it? What did the doctor say?"

Her lips strained into an unnatural smile. "Tis nothing, Sam. Just needin' some vitamins, that's all."

"Vitamins?"

Her eyes slid away like those of a criminal suspect, and he could not help but wonder if she was lying. But why would she? It made no sense, and he didn't want to upset her with more questions. He could try again later, after they'd both had a chance to relax.

Back in the car, Jenny sat staring fixedly out the window. "Sam. I'm sorry, really I am...but can't ya just take me home now? I'm not feelin' so well."

"But I wanted you to check out some houses..."

She glanced at him, and seeing his disappointment, swallowed hard. What would be his disappointment if he knew the whole truth? How long could she hope to keep it from him? _He'll think I've been unfaithful-and with a Vulcan, of all things!_

"Sam. Sam, please..."

"Alright." He gave her hand a caring squeeze and headed for the transporter depot.

oooo

Back at the ranch, Jenny passed each day in a cold gray fog. Struggling against despair, she tried hard to focus on one task at a time, smiling for Antonia's benefit, lest Sam's dear mother become suspicious. On Saturday she went in to Pinehaven and tearfully spoke to the parish priest about everything that had happened. Face to face they sat, and she could tell by his pained eyes that he doubted her incredible story. And why wouldn't he? In all of history, there had been only one virgin birth.

"Come now, Jenny," he gently chided.

The tears streamed down her face and she made no attempt to wipe them away.

"If you love Sam," he counseled, "you have to tell him the truth. If you no longer love him, then let the man go."

"Oh, but I _do_ love him," she said with all her heart. "Father, I really do!"

On Christmas Day, Sam's duties kept him in Chicago, and Jenny was almost glad of it. Loneliness was becoming preferable to the terrible strain she now endured in his presence. After Mass, they spoke over the phone, expressing appreciation for the gifts they had exchanged. Sam was pleased to see his golden locket hanging close to her heart. He told her that he was going to "work on through" his usual days off in order to take extra time, starting with his birthday on the first of January. He would be spending a whole week at the ranch.

Masking the fear that his words aroused, Jenny said, "Sure, and that's going to be just wonderful." _A whole week hiding the terrible secret inside her..._

As New Year's Day approached, she became truly desperate. Sam and Antonia would be talking about the wedding. They had started off planning a small church affair, but with only six weeks left, the guest list kept growing. Most of the invitations had already been sent out, and each day brought her closer to the altar. What was she going to do? How could she go on pretending that she had any kind of future with Sam?

On the final day of the year, Jenny spent a restless night tossing in her bed. Before dawn, she rose and turned on a light. Opening her closet, she stared at the white bridal gown hanging in its protective sheath. _White-symbolic of virginal purity._ All her life she had lived chastely, saving herself for her future husband, as God intended. She had never once been with a man. Yet the doctor's printout told a very different story, and the changes in her body agreed.

It sickened her to think of the little intruder inside her, ruining her life with Sam. Now and then a searing pain caught her, as if even her womb wanted to reject the unwelcome presence.

"Oh Sam," she groaned. "How can I face ya?" _In just a few short hours, you'll be here..._

oooo

As Sam walked across the wooden decking of the porch, the front door sprang open. Hoping against hope for a warm birthday welcome from Jenny, he was disappointed to find his mother, instead. She looked a little crestfallen, too.

"Oh, it's you, Sam," she said. "I heard your footsteps and thought maybe..."

His heart shrank. Thinking that his mother was expecting a doctor, he asked, "Is it Jenny? Is something wrong?"

Antonia nodded. "I can't find her anywhere. She was here last night, but when I got up..."

Sam brushed past her and ran upstairs to Jenny's room. The bed was unmade. On a little table beside it, lay the locket he had given her. Hurriedly he checked the closet and pulled open each dresser drawer, relieved to see her belongings still neatly in place. _What would she think of me invading her privacy?_ Setting everything back in order, he turned and found his mother watching from the doorway. It was time for the truth.

"Mom," he admitted, "I was afraid she might run off. Something's gone wrong with her—with _us_ —but I have no idea what _."_

She sighed and her eyes reproached him. "Sam, are you sure this trouble isn't...about you?"

He knew exactly what she meant, and it was galling. Over the years, he had earned quite a reputation with the ladies, but since Jenny, he had put all that behind him. He didn't like being reminded that he was a womanizer… _just like his father._

"No, Mom!" he said adamantly. "It's not like that. Jenny's the only girl for me now."

"Alright, alright," she said in a soothing, motherly tone. "I just hope she's not out wandering around in the mountains. Her coat is missing, but it's freezing cold and they're forecasting more snow."

Sam headed back downstairs, this time taking each step slowly, trying to make sense of Jenny's behavior. "It seems to me," he said to his mother descending behind him, "that this all started that day in the corral. She's never been quite the same."

Reaching the living room, he turned to her with a sudden thought. "Maybe War Cloud gave her a brain injury! The doctor in Chicago might not have checked for that. A lingering concussion would explain a lot of things."

Antonia's face brightened with hope. "Yes…maybe."

Sam felt better as he changed into a heavier coat. Grabbing warm gloves and a knitted hat, he started for the door. "I'll go have a look around."

oooo

Deep in the forest, Jenny happened upon a crumbling wooden grave marker. Wide-eyed, she stared at the name, wondering who had taken the effort to carve it. _James Tiberius Kirk._ How strange. She knew for a fact that Sam's father wasn't buried here—knew he was not dead at all, but the grim little shrine only added to her depression. Cold and weary from her long hike, she moved down the trail on numbed feet. The lowering sky looked heavy with snow. Why were the clouds holding back? ' _Twould be better if a blizzard came and blotted out the whole miserable world, and me along with it._

Each step crunched the thin icy layer left by the last storm. The trail twisted, the ground rose and fell. Another cramping pain caught her, but clutching her middle, she walked on. _Is that a trickle of blood I feel? Am I dyin' out here, all alone?_

Her breath puffed frosty clouds in the still mountain air. From off in the distance came the lonely baying of a hound. Then silence returned. Not a single bird in the pines, or even a rabbit stirring. Every wild creature was safe in its shelter, and Jenny found herself wishing that she was safe, too.

At the edge of a barren meadow she heard a burbling sound and followed it to a shallow creek. The sight of the water awakened her thirst. As she stooped down to drink from her cupped hands, she sighted a cave in the hillside beyond. The promise of shelter made her ford the creek carefully, stepping from stone to stone. As she approached the cave, the pain in her belly worsened, doubling her over, knifing straight on through to her back. She retched, and for a moment her vision dimmed. Shivering from a cold sweat, she climbed up to the little cavern and made a startling discovery. Just inside, someone had built a primitive hut out of sticks daubed liberally with mud. Cautiously she peered through the human-sized opening and saw a folded blanket. In the middle of the dirt floor a fire pit had tinder and logs all ready for the lighting. Beside it lay a good-sized flint and a piece of steel.

Too drained to question her good fortune, Jenny scooted inside and soon had a warm fire blazing. As smoke rose through a clever hole in the roof, she wrapped herself in the old blanket and lay down, gritting her teeth against waves of pain.

oooo

The search began easily enough. Like a birthday gift, Sam found Jenny's dainty footprints in the crust of snow and followed them along a winding forest trail. Where the woods overreached the path, there was nothing but pine needles, but in the places where Jenny's tracks were clear he jogged along, making good progress. In those moments his mind ran ahead, envisioning their meeting—catching her in his arms, and all the loving words he would say to her.

And what would Jenny say to him? She had known he was coming this morning. Why had she chosen his birthday to disappear? She couldn't have lost her way, with her own tracks showing so clearly. Was her mind clouded from her injury? And there was another possibility—one much too painful to dwell on. Was she deliberately avoiding him?

The trail thinned again. Sam had jogged a long way and he was ready for a rest. Each icy breath stabbed at his lungs as he stooped over to look for signs, the way his foster brother Lame Wolf had taught him long ago. The Shoshone lad had really known his way around these mountains—he had lived out here, all alone, before Sam's father took him in. _It was a decent thing Dad did...only to spoil it later, when Lame Wolf and Tru fell in love._ At the tender age of eleven, Sam had sided with his father, adopting Dad's unreasoning anger over the romance. Rather than lose his father's approval, he had let his mind be poisoned against Tru. _And for thanks, Dad, you ran off to the Nexus and left all of us._

Sam shook off the bitter memory and returned to the present. He picked up Jenny's trail on the edge of a meadow. Snowflakes began to drift down—tiny specks, changing to fat thick clumps that chilled his heart with fear. Before his eyes, Jenny's precious tracks were already disappearing.

"Jenny!" Sam sprinted into the meadow, calling out her name every few steps. "Jenny! Where are you?"

Caught by a gust of wind, the snow swirled. Sam smelled wood smoke, and heartened by it, ran on. The area was familiar to him. Just past the meadow, he came to a little creek that usually froze over in the depths of winter. Strangely enough, it was still flowing. He hopped across, slipping and sliding in his haste. Smoke curled its way through the snowfall, and he followed it to the cavern where he had camped on more than one occasion. At the mouth of the cave he felt heat radiating from Lame Wolf's lodge. Hoping against hope, he bent down and looked inside.

"Jenny!"

From the depths of her pain, Jenny heard Sam's urgent voice and turned toward it. The blanket slipped off her. She watched his eyes widen as he saw her bleeding, and was ashamed.

"Jenny," his voice choked. "Jenny, hang on."

The little hut faded away to nothing, but Sam was still with her. Together, they rematerialized at the regional hospital. A pair of orderlies situated her on a gurney and rolled her straight to an examination room while she clung to Sam's ungloved hand, knowing it might be the last time. Seeing her willingness to have him near, no one questioned Sam's right to be present. _Let him stay at_ my _side_ , she thought _. I haven't the courage to tell him, so let him see for himself what_ 's _become of me and draw his own conclusions._

A wave of the doctor's scanner quickly diagnosed a miscarriage in progress. Jenny's heart broke at the hurt, bewildered look on Sam's face.

"But it…it's not _mine..._ " she insisted.

Dropping her hand, he turned around and walked out.

oooo

Sam found a waiting room and slumped into a secluded chair. His mind reeling, he yanked off his stocking cap and wadded it in his strong hands. _Jenny…my own dear Jenny…pregnant with another man's child!_ What did she mean, the baby wasn't hers? Did she take him for a complete fool? Well, Sam Kirk was no fool—not anymore! Plain to see what had been bothering her, now. A drink, that's what he needed—something good and strong to help him forget the wonderful future they had planned together.

Standing abruptly, he threw his cap down and headed for the exit, but a painful yearning for Jenny made him stop. It hurt just picturing her sweet Irish smile. _How can I still love her? Pretending to be so innocent while carrying on like a little tramp, right behind my back!_

Around and around his weary thoughts chased one another. _Who was she seeing?_ Sam had to know. He had to hear it from her own faithless lips, the same lips that had kissed him so tenderly, whispering words of love. _Happy birthday, Sam—she's gone and betrayed you, just like Dad._

In the midst of his torment, he thought to call his mother. He told her they were alright, nothing more. But they weren't _really_ alright, and the bitter realization set him pacing until he heard his name called.

"Mr. Kirk? Sam Kirk?"

Numbly, he went over to the receptionist.

She said, "Jenny Flynn is asking to see you."

oooo

Alone in her cubicle, Jenny wept, waiting and hoping for Sam to come back. Half an hour passed while deep wrenching sobs tore at her chest. She had emptied herself of tears, and of hope, when the curtain finally drew aside and Sam entered.

Without saying a word, he stood over her, his handsome face set in grim lines. He had shed his coat, for the emergency department was quite warm. But Jenny could not help shivering, no matter how many blankets they piled on her.

With teeth chattering, she said, "I lost the baby and I'm glad. It...it wasn't even _human..._ an'...an' Sam, I don't know how it got there, inside me. _"_

His brown eyes sparked with fire. "You're actually telling me..."

"Tis God's own truth! I knew nothing at all about the baby, till Chicago. I should have told ya then—but how could I? Would ya have believed it? The day the horse trampled me, a doctor said I was raped. He must have been right, but why didn't I remember?"

He turned from her and glared at the curtain. His clenched jaw made it clear that he did not believe any of it. He wasn't even trying to.

The ache in her chest deepened and she felt the tears starting again. "You're through with me, I can see that now…and I can't say that I blame ya. But Sam...won't ya just try an' listen?"

He looked at her coldly.

Feeling helpless and frustrated, Jenny let her temper flare. "Oh, ya think ya got it all figured out, don't ya? You're too good for the likes of me! Here, then—" She wrenched the engagement ring off her finger and tossed it into his quick hands. "Get away from me, Sam Kirk, and good riddance!"

oooo

It was two days since Jenny's miscarriage, and Sam had scarcely slept. Back at his Chicago apartment, he spent his vacation staring at the walls, trying to pick up the pieces of his broken heart. Jenny's tale was completely incredible, yet day and night, the memory of her tearful words haunted him. _It's not mine. I don't even know how it got there, inside me. It wasn't even human._

Not human? What in hell had she meant by that?

Though tired and distraught, Sam was still a police officer, and the professional part of his mind kept mulling over the outrageous claim. Maybe he was just grasping at straws, refusing to accept Jenny's betrayal and the end of a love meant to last forever. But he couldn't forget her pale, pleading face or the look of bewildered shame in the eyes that had always seemed so innocent.

Sam ordered fresh black coffee from the replicator, and taking it to a window, gazed out at the frozen city. Night had fallen, and the sign from a neighborhood tavern pulsed in brilliant neon hues, reminding him of his own reckless past. He grimaced, remembering all the willing women he had sinned with right here in his bed.

As if on cue, his phone cycled, and he heard a seductive voice. "Hey, Sam, it's Flo. Remember me? Are you home, Sam? Are you lonely?"

Long after the message faded into silence, Sam stood thinking. _I've been faithful to Jenny, but with my track record, who am I to condemn her?_ The change of perspective brought a glimmer of renewed hope. True, Jenny had fallen…but to all appearances, she still cared for him. Shouldn't he give her another chance to admit her wrong? To apologize? What if she still wanted to marry him? Maybe, with God's help, they could piece their love back together.

oooo

Jenny had not heard from Sam since the day he walked out of the hospital, nor did she expect it. She had returned on her own to the Kirk ranch. There, she told Antonia that the wedding was cancelled and she would be looking for a new position. Now, sitting at the living room computer, she tried to focus on the task at hand, but her attention kept straying from the numerous job listings to her Da's scornful voice. _Jenny Frances, you'll niver amount to anythin', wait and see! You'll end up on the street, pregnant and all alone._

Looked like the old man was right, after all. Would she get pregnant again? Without even knowing how? Would she spend her whole life jumping from one post to another, trouble nipping away at her heels? She wished she had never set eyes on Sam Kirk, that know-it-all, big city cop. Sure, and he wasn't worth a single one of the tears she had wasted on him.

Then why was her heart still weeping?

Drawing in a ragged breath, she shut her eyes tight. _Lord, where did that baby come from? Please tell me I'm not crazy...help me remember!_

Behind her, the front door opened. Antonia was upstairs in the loft painting, and her daughter Tru was in California. That left only one other person who entered the house without ringing the bell.

A rush of anxiety-induced adrenaline sent Jenny's pulse racing. Staring at the computer screen, she listened to the slow measured footsteps moving toward her.

Sam stopped nearby and cleared his throat. "Can we talk…somewhere private?"

All the talk in the world would not fix the trouble between them. Jenny knew it, but she went along with him anyway, for it meant having Sam near her for a precious moment or two.

"In my bedroom," she said, keeping her head down.

She led the way upstairs and looked at Sam only after the door closed. His pained expression was almost more than she could bear.

"You made a mistake," he said soberly. "Well, I've made my share of mistakes, too. But I want to know—do you still love me?"

Tears sprang into her eyes. "Oh yes, Sam…with all me heart!"

He ventured a step closer. "Then just tell me the truth, Jenny…and tell me you're _sorry_."

The breath caught in Jenny's throat. "Sorry? You have no idea how sorry I am…but the truth, Sam? I've been telling ya nothin' _but_ the truth." Though he huffed in exasperation, she kept trying. "Sam. I swear on me Uncle Phineas' grave, I've niver willingly been with a man…human _or_ Vulcan."

He alerted to a single word. _"Vulcan?_ What do you mean?"

Jenny went to her dresser, pulled out the medical printout she had received in Chicago, and handed it over. "The baby was Vulcan. See? It plainly says so, right there. At the hospital, they said I was making antibodies against it. Now what in the world would I be doing with a Vulcan? It makes no sense atall." A sigh escaped her. "Sam…don't ya know me by now? I love you!"

Studying the printout, Sam felt his police blood stir. What _would_ Jenny be doing with a member of a race that bonded for life? She should have lost all interest in him, yet here she stood, insisting that she still loved him as much as ever…and those earnest green eyes made him almost believe it.

But suspicion bound Sam's heart like a prickly wire fence. He needed to go off by himself and think. "This paper…can I borrow it?"

"Sure, and you can toss it in the fire, for all I care. I'd like to forget the whole miserable thing ever happened."

Sam steeled himself against her look of sweet innocence. "One way or the other," he vowed, "I'll get to the bottom of this."

"Then God go with ya," she replied.

oooo

Now that Sam had something concrete to occupy his mind, he felt a little better. He spent a couple of days at a Pinehaven hotel, nosing around the countryside in a rental car. As a police officer, he enjoyed the challenge of investigating crimes. Not that he was convinced a crime had been committed in Jenny's case, but a Vulcan had definitely been involved, and that was suspicious enough to point him toward a tract of land bordering the Kirk ranch.

Sam called ahead for an appointment with the director of the Yanashite seminary at Plum Creek. The former Starfleet officer had been close to Sam's father. As a young boy Sam had called him "Uncle" Spock, but all that changed when Dad abandoned the family. Unfairly or not, Sam had transferred a load of anger to his father's best friend for not doing much of anything to find him, and a feeling of resentment still lingered.

A man of precision, Spock was ready and waiting to greet Sam with quiet cordiality. "It has been much too long," he said, ushering Sam into his seminary office. "Your mother tells me that you are doing well."

Sam nodded politely, though it would soon become apparent that he was not doing so well, after all. With a quick glance around the room, he took the seat that was offered to him. There was a faint smell of incense from the temple down the hallway, where Yanashites offered their own version of a Holy Mass. He remembered seeing the temple once, all polished hardwood panels intricately carved with religious symbols. Clearly these Yanashites appreciated beauty. How would they feel about a beautiful woman, about someone as sweet and lovely as Jenny?

Knowing that Vulcans also valued directness, Sam dove right in. "I'm trying to unravel a mystery. My fiancé has been living at the Kirk ranch since August. A few days ago, she suffered a miscarriage, even though she can't remember having relations with any man." _Or so she says._

Seated behind his desk, Spock raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Sam reached into his coat pocket for Jenny's medical spreadsheet and placed it in front of him. "Awhile back, I took her up to Chicago, and the pregnancy was verified at a clinic there. As you can see, the child was Vulcan."

Spock's brow plummeted. He blinked, then took the paper into his hands and studied it. Sam watched him, wondering at his age. The half-Vulcan never seemed to change much, despite the human genes from his mother.

Still looking at the page, Spock said, "I understand that Jenny Flynn is Father O'Day's niece?" His eyes rose to Sam.

"Yes." Sam felt his emotions welling and brought them under control. "Jenny has always been an upstanding young lady."

"I see." Spock returned the printout before adding, "And what, precisely, are you asking of me?"

Deep down, Sam began to fear that he was making a complete fool of himself. _Poor jilted lover. Is that how Spock sees me?_ Well, let Spock think whatever he wanted; Sam would brazen it out. "A girl turns up pregnant with a Vulcan baby. She remembers nothing of what happened. Just over the hill, there's a houseful of young Vulcan males. Vulcans capable of removing memories from a human mind."

That said, Sam waited for his father's friend to show him the door.

But Spock merely frowned. "These men are Yanashites. Carefully screened candidates for the priesthood."

"You said it. They are _men_."

Spock looked aside, and it was clear that his mind was working fast and hard. Facing Sam, he said, "Yes…they are men…and a Vulcan can both expunge memories and implant false ones. I can see how your logic led you to Plum Creek." He rose. "One moment. I'll bring the seminarians here and question them in your presence."

"Wait." Sam sprang up and showed Spock a forensic scanner that his partner, Clay Duval, had sent over from their Chicago precinct. He placed it alongside the medical sheet on Spock's desk. "With this, you can cross-reference the genetic data."

Spock nodded and left the room. Alone, Sam stared at a large rendering of Vulcan's sacred Mount Seleya painted by his mother, but it did not hold his attention for long. He could not help but anticipate his upcoming embarrassment when the Vulcans all tested clear—or still worse—when one of them admitted to a consensual affair with Jenny. _What the hell am I doing here?_ But it was too late to back away now; he was in this right up to his neck.

Spock returned, bringing three robed seminarians who eyed Sam curiously. There were no introductions. With the young Vulcans standing in a line, Spock slowly moved from one to the other, taking time to study each placid face. Being followers of Yanash, a couple of them smiled a bit, but Spock did not reciprocate.

Coming to a halt, Spock clasped his hands behind his back and addressed the students. "A neighboring human has conceived a Vulcan child. She has no memory of the event."

Dark eyes widened and the room grew very silent as Spock observed their slightest reactions. He picked up the scanner and printout. Adjusting the controls on the scanner, he said, "This instrument is capable of confirming the child's paternity.

Looking on, Sam sucked in his breath as Spock turned the scanner on himself. In that moment he remembered something of his boyhood fondness for this man, and his throat tightened.

Spock held out the proof of innocence for Sam to see. Sam took a quick look and stepped aside as Spock began to scan the seminarians. There was no reading their expressions; they all seemed rather tense, but Sam thought he saw Spock flinch ever so slightly before double-checking the Chicago printout. Yes, there was a grim set to the halfling's mouth, and Sam expected him to swing around and say, _There now-are you satisfied? See for yourself; your accusations are groundless._

Instead, Spock spoke to the seminarians. "Gentlemen. Would you care to see the results?"

At first no one moved. Then the center Vulcan stepped forward and viewed the data. Abruptly he lost his detached manner and declared, "She came to me willingly!"

The admission struck Sam like a phaser blast. _Was this really Jenny's lover? If so, why hadn't they bonded?_ Hands clenched, he determinedly kept to his role of observer while Spock dismissed the other young men.

Spock was angrier than Sam had ever seen him. Confronting the guilty culprit, he said, "So, Dukor…my suspicions are well-founded. I should have sent you away long before now. You _will_ tell me the truth about Jenny Flynn—the absolute truth, do you understand? Or I will uncover it myself."

Dukor seemed to realize this was no idle threat. _Good,_ thought Sam, _start squirming, you Vulcan weasel._ He liked the idea of Spock delving into Dukor's mind and taking the information by force. _This, I gotta see..._

But Dukor decided to avoid a mental duel. With infuriating arrogance he divulged, "My Time came upon me and she was...convenient. I left her unharmed."

Though Sam was not sure what he meant by "my time", he exploded. " _Unharmed?_ That day at the Kirk stable, you raped her! You made her pregnant!"

Dukor's snakelike gaze flicked toward Sam, daring him to act, but Spock motioned for Sam to keep his distance.

"Your Time?" Spock questioned Dukor. "Then you are no Yanashite, for a believer would be spared from its worst effects."

The Vulcan coolly inclined his head. "An elementary deduction. I am glad the masquerade is over. You and your wayward sect disgust me. I will have a very interesting report for my superiors on Vulcan."

"Interesting _lies_ , you mean," Spock countered, "from an accomplished liar. But I'm afraid the Idaho State authorities will have first shot at you."

The young Vulcan almost sneered. "Slang, Spock? Your human half is showing."

Throughout the exchange, Sam had edged his way over to the door, and now stood blocking the only avenue of escape. He saw Spock raise his wrist phone, but Sam had something else in mind.

His blood boiling, he said, "Spock, wait."

Spock paused and glanced over at him.

Sam gave Dukor a look of loathing. "Before you call the police…let me at him. One minute, that's all I ask."

Spock's slanted brow climbed, but he did not answer immediately. Sam knew that Vulcans had their own code of honor which sometimes involved hand-to-hand combat. One winter night he had overheard his father speaking of one such ritual—a strange tale of battling Spock in the thin, hot atmosphere of Vulcan.

"Inadvisable," Spock said. "A Vulcan's strength is superior to that of a human."

"My father fought _you!"_ Sam retorted.

Again, Spock's eyebrow quirked. "And your father lost _."_

Dukor broke his silence. Thin lips curling with disdain, he assumed a Vulcan combat pose. "A human and a halfbreed! I can easily defeat both of you!"

Sam felt the challenge resonating in his bones. Dukor was a rapist and a liar. He had brutalized an innocent girl—Sam's own sweet Jenny—and left her lying in the cold dirt of a stable.

Overcome with rage, Sam hurled himself at the Vulcan. Dukor knocked him aside and went after Spock. As Sam's shoulder impacted the door, he saw Spock dodge a kick and swing around reaching for his assailant's neck. Dukor registered surprise at the nerve pinch and jerked free before Spock could exert enough pressure to drop him. Dukor staggered, too numbed to raise his hands in his own defense.

The moment seemed custom made for Sam. With fists balled, he waded in, knocking the disabled Vulcan flat on his back. Sam leaped atop Dukor and began punching away—not only at the Vulcan, but at everyone who had ever hurt him, including James T. Kirk. _Police brutality?_ No. He was out of uniform and out of his jurisdiction. This was strictly a private matter; he had a score to settle, and for Jenny's sake he would settle it in full.

"Sam… _Samuel!"_

As if from a distance, he heard his name spoken and felt Spock grab his arms from behind, effectively restraining him. The haze of fury began to clear. He looked down at Dukor, who was still conscious and doing his Vulcan best to work through the pain.

Spock released Sam and helped him rise. On his feet, Sam noticed a stinging in his hands and gave them a quick glance. Splits in his knuckles seeped red blood, but there was plenty of green blood, too.

Unapologetic, Sam flexed them and said, "The bastard had it coming…and then some."

Spock looked him in the eye. "Sam Kirk, you _are_ your father's son."

Only Sam knew how close he came to decking his "Uncle" Spock.

oooo

Up in her bedroom, Jenny was placing the last of her clothes in a suitcase when she heard an air car arrive at the house. Instinctively she knew it was Sam. _Oh Lord, here he comes…and this time he's plenty mad._

Clutching a sweater, she stood stock-still, her heart beating wildly. With her door ajar, Sam's booming voice plainly carried from the living room.

 _"_ _Where's Jenny!"_

"Upstairs," his mother answered in a worried tone. "Sam, I don't know what's happened between the two of you, but…"

Sam's footsteps pounded on the stairs. Taking a deep breath, Jenny closed her eyes. She had hoped to be spared any more wrenching confrontations. She had meant to be gone from here. Well, this was the last one. Never again would she have to face Sam, knowing how badly she had hurt him.

Sam burst into the bedroom and stopped, breathing heavily.

Gathering her courage, Jenny turned from her suitcase and looked at him. His handsome face was flushed and his auburn hair in disarray. Her eyes found stains on his coat and traveled down the sleeves to his bloodied knuckles.

With a start she cried, "Sam! What in the world's happened?"

His words tumbled out in a rush. "I've been over at Plum Creek. You were right. It was a Vulcan, all the time. That day back in November...he attacked you in the stable...and made you believe the horse had done it."

Jenny's thoughts began to whirl. "You...you're sayin' you found the Vulcan who…who raped me?"

With tears in his eyes, Sam nodded. "His name is Dukor and he's under arrest." Taking a step closer, he said, "I should have believed you. I should have trusted you. You needed me, and I pushed you away."

The sweater slipped from Jenny's fingers. Suddenly weak-kneed, she sat down on the bed. "It's alright, Sam...an'...an' I'll understand if you want to call it quits. I...feel so mixed up...an' so…so dirty _."_

Sam crossed the room and pulled her into his strong arms. "You did nothing wrong! None of this was your fault. Oh Jenny, I love you. Can you ever forgive me?"

Jenny broke down and wept tears of happiness. "Sam...ya silly cop...of course I forgive ya. I was afraid I'd lost ya forever..." Like a thunderclap, a thought struck her and she drew back, wiping her eyes. "Oh Sam. Poor War Cloud. He must've known that Vulcan was in the stable. That's why he balked. He was tryin' to warn me, tryin' to protect me…and…and we _killed_ him."

For a moment Sam just looked into her eyes. Then he tenderly kissed her and said, "Everything's going to be okay. Trust me, Jenny. Put away your things, I'll be right back."

But after Sam left her, she just stared off into space. _So much to take in, all at once._ To think she was the victim of a rape she could not even remember! And the fruit of that unholy union—poor blameless child—she had wished it dead, and gotten her wish. It seemed wicked of her now, yet God had seen fit to restore Sam's love. She vowed then and there to make Sam a good wife. And knowing how he felt about his father's stallion, she would never again mention poor old War Cloud.

When Sam returned, she had a smile ready for him.

"Bundle up," he said. "We're going outside."

"But Sam," she argued, "don't ya need to see a doctor for those hands? And come to think of it, ya niver told me what happened to them."

He looked as if would rather not admit it. "I beat the Vulcan bastard. He was just so damn _arrogant_." Gingerly touching his battered knuckles, he dredged up Jenny's old accusation against police. "I know, I know. Big city cop, throwing my weight around. Just like your dad."

Jenny's heart swelled with love. "No, Sam Kirk, you're not one bit like me da, and niver will be. Even when ya thought I'd been unfaithful…even when ya had a right to your anger, you weren't cruel." Aching inside, she took one of his bloody hands and gently kissed it. "Darlin', you're such a good man. I…I wanted ya to be the _first."_

Sam cradled her face in his hands and she felt his loving gaze deep in her soul. Softly he said, "I will be. Your heart is pure and true, Jenny Flynn. You're my own sweet angel." Then he kissed her with an earthly passion that stirred her right down to her toes.

Coming up a bit breathless, she said, "Maybe we'd best be headin' outside, after all. The cold air will do us good."

Out on the porch, Sam slipped an arm around her waist and she leaned against him. It was a bright afternoon, with scarcely a cloud in the frosty blue sky. As the breeze tingled Jenny's cheeks, she heard a nickering sound and turned toward it. An old gray Appaloosa stood all by himself in the paddock. He stretched his neck toward them and nickered again.

Jenny gasped and stood up straight. "Am I seein' things?"

Chuckling, Sam snugged his arm tighter. "That's War Cloud, alright. The patterns of euthanized animals are stored in the matrix for a year; it's standard policy."

Astonished, she looked up at him. His warm smile melted her heart. "I'd niver have known a thing about it…but ya brought him back, anyway!"

He nodded. "It's the most I could do for the old nag. He tried his best to protect you, but ended up taking the rap."

"Come on, then," she beckoned to Sam. "He'll be needin' fresh water and hay and a good warm blanket." Feeling as light as a feather, she ran for the paddock.

Sam caught up and watched her slip between the fence boards. Hugging War Cloud's thick neck, she crooned, "Thata boy. Thanks to Sam here, you'll likely be seein' another spring…and won't that be fine?"

As the old stallion snorted in appreciation, she shared another smile with her fiancé. Deep down in her soul, it was already springtime.

oooOOooo


End file.
